


No More Tears (For Now)

by reesadi



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Hatred, non-youtuber au, sorry - Freeform, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reesadi/pseuds/reesadi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: It’s now that he realizes that it has stopped raining. The sky holds soft, heavy clouds, but the moon shines through their window. No more rain for now. No more tears for now. And Mark smiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Tears (For Now)

The sky is a widow’s sky, endarkened and weeping upon the earth. He watches the rain as it taps against the window, like little fingers tapping upon the glass. He wants to go and greet the tears of the heavens, like he would do any day. But it is frigid, and he knows he shouldn’t. Jack would worry. He does not want Jack to worry anymore.

Jack was afraid to leave him here alone. Because it was only a week ago that Mark was bleeding out on the bathroom floor alone, with nothing but self hatred plaguing his mind. It was only a week ago that Mark had almost ripped himself from Jack’s fingertips, ripped himself away from life. And he was alone.

And as he lies here under the covers, clinging onto any happy thought that could enter his mind, he can feel the poisonous thoughts creeping into his mind. They sing their evil lullabies of hate and hopelessness, and Mark tries to push them out; He really does. But they become louder and louder and more shrill in his mind, and before he realizes it, there are tears dripping from his eyes. He weeps with the heavens and wants Jack to come home. He needs Jack.

\--

His finger runs gently upon the blade. Not hard enough to cut, but hard enough to feel. Mark can feel that itch, that longing to feel it upon his skin. But he looks at his wrists; He stares at every scar and raised mark upon his pale skin and he drops the knife like it is a venomous snake, ready to strike. Mark stares at the shiny blade, realization hitting him in the face. He should get out of here. He should go to bed.

He leaves the knife there on the kitchen floor, where it waits for him if he dared to come back.  
\--

Mark stares at the pills in the cabinet. Prescription sleeping pills prescribed to him by the doctor who is so sad whenever she sees him. He make so many people sad. And no matter what he does, he cannot stop making them sad. Because he will always spiral out of control.

The pills sing a song of blissful sleep. A sleep that he will never wake up from. He takes the pills out of the cabinet and automatically takes a handful--he’s so used to that much. But he stops himself. He stops before he downs a handful of pills, and he spills them back in. He takes two out. The right amount. He swallows them dry.

He feels good when he drifts off to sleep.

He cannot hear those deadly songs anymore.  
\--

Mark watches the clock. 1:30 pm. 1:31pm. He watches the time flick past him, and he wonders when Jack will come home. He said 5:30. He promised. So there are 4 hours left with the hell in his mind, and then Jack will be home. It won’t be so bad.

Will it?

1:34 pm. 1:35pm. The minutes seem to go slower. Dark thoughts are creeping into his mind again, lethargic and taunting. But he fights this time, pushing them away. Because Jack makes him want to survive, Jack makes living bearable. 

Jack makes him want to live. And that scares him so much.

And so he will wait. He will wait for him to come home and he will not think about how much he would like to stop being a burden. He will not return to the kitchen where the knife waits for him and his blood, and he will not go to the bathroom cabinet and enter a lifelong sleep. He will stay here and wait for Jack to come home to him.

\--

“Mark?”

His eyes flash open. Jack is kneeling there beside his bed, carding his fingers through his hair, and he relaxes. Jack is here. Jack is here. He does not realize he is crying until Jack is wiping his tears away.

“It’s ok. I’m here now.”

It’s now that he realizes that it has stopped raining. The sky holds soft, heavy clouds, but the moon shines through their window. No more rain for now. No more tears for now. And Mark smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been very depressed lately, but I have slowly been getting better. This is my first fic, and I would really love a comment or two if you will be polite. Thank you for reading.


End file.
